Heartless Performers
by ncfan
Summary: -Tsunade x Dan- One more face to add to the procession, perhaps. Spoilers for 525.


**Characters**: Tsunade, Dan (mentioned), others mentioned**  
Summary**: One more face to add to the procession, perhaps. Spoilers for 525.**  
Pairings**: TsuDan**  
Author's Note**: As I mentioned earlier, yes this contains spoilers to chapter 525. You have been warned.**  
Disclaimer**: I don't own Naruto.

* * *

The names ring in Tsunade's mind. Nidaime Tsuchikage, Nidaime Mizukage. The mention of the Sandaime Raikage sends his son nearly into hysterics, and the final name, that of the Yondaime Kazekage, brings a grim smirk to Tsunade's lips. Briefly, she wonders how Gaara will react to having to confront his father on the battlefield. Then, Tsunade decides that the previous Kazekage will probably find himself crushed by sand. Repeatedly.

Tsunade finds herself falling to silence as she starts to process the information that has been given. _Four kages, all brought onto the battlefield at once… _She's surprised Kabuto didn't try to resurrect the Sandaime Kazekage too; _he_ would have been a sight to behold on the front lines.

_So many nin, returned to the land of the living. _Amber eyes narrow. _Suppose…_

Those amber eyes squeeze shut, Tsunade's stomach clenching as her face momentarily contorts in pained anguish. _No! Don't even think about that!_ Even touching on that name briefly still hurts after the passing of so many years; the thought of the face, of the hands, of the good soul puts a pall over her heart.

But she has to think about it. Tsunade isn't the wild, unfettered woman who can run from all her troubles anymore. The Godaime Hokage, what she has become, is a mask, a persona that _must_ face all possibilities and specters in the dark, no matter how painful.

Memory of a face surfaces in the pool of Tsunade's mind. _What is Dan is brought, as well?_

Tsunade's entire life has seemed as a play, as a cruel tragedy with the final act dragging on and on, and among the false faces of the heartless performers there is one that has always rung true even in the darkest of moments. Everything and everyone else seemed washed out and pale, but Dan was as vivid as life itself. Kind and gentle where the others had no compassion and no heart, he was always too good, especially for Tsunade, who was just as heartless as the rest. He was more real than anyone Tsunade has ever known, and yet at the same time he seemed more unreal than anyone else.

Briefly, Tsunade wonders about Shizune, and how she will react if Dan is found to have been pried from the cold earth. She was only a small child when he died but he was still her uncle and the thought of staring into his eyes from across a field of battle would undoubtedly be unbearable.

Suddenly, Tsunade finds her fingers itching for the familiar weight of a saucer of sake to lift to her lips, to have some temporary oblivion. Pain to be dulled and forgotten for a few hours. She wishes she could slough off those responsibilities for just a little while; Tsunade can't count the number of times she's wished for that.

But she knows she can't. The responsibility will always find her, and now, in times of war, she can't afford to have it find her drunk or passed out on a cot. Tsunade hadn't realized what she had bargained away with the Hokage's hat until the drums of war started beating on her doorstep and dead loved ones began the slow march of unearthing themselves from the abyss to plague the living.

Tsunade goes on, sober and eyes burning dry, watching the procession of heartless performers, dry husks of men and women with painted glass eyes and voices drifting from behind unmoving lips. Grotesque actors all, at their undulating dance.

And if she does meet Dan again, if Tsunade is forced to face those eyes and those hands without gentle death cloaking their shoulders…

Tsunade doesn't know how it will be then.

She does fear, though, that her heart will dance out of her chest, and that she'll become one of them: no longer living, but not dead either.


End file.
